


Past life? Present!

by NescaMonsterCommission



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Ghost!Jeremy, Minor Character Death, Other, Serial Killers, detective!Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 14:43:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NescaMonsterCommission/pseuds/NescaMonsterCommission
Summary: Detective Ryan had the oddest partner on the force. Mostly because his partner was already dead.Jeremy had no idea how he died, until one day Ryan is called upon to investigate a particularly Gorey murder...





	Past life? Present!

**Author's Note:**

> The wonderful Kay asked for a 5000 word, but I went a little over... no charge of course!  
> Check out her artwork- SPOILER! It's amazing!  
> http://artsyorangeykay.tumblr.com/post/178440495964/someone-tagged-my-short-dbd-comic-with-the-thought

With over a year working with a ghost no one else could see, you’d think Ryan would be used to the shenanigans Jeremy got up too. And yet, they still had to have conversations like the one they were having now. Jeremy was laying on his belly on the hood of the car, his head through the windshield and pillowed on his arms leaning against the dash. An off putting position under normal circumstances but even more so considering the car was moving.

“It’s fine, no one can see me Ryan!” Jeremy argued from his somehow comfortable position. The wind didn’t bother him and, with his head inside the cab, Ryan could hear him so he didn’t see a problem.

“I can, and it’s very distracting.” Ryan argued back, fingers tight on the wheel, his knuckles white. His eyes flicked to Jeremy's face before focusing back on the road, “Plus, your blocking my view of the road!”

“Eh, I’m transparent, you’ll be fine.” Jeremy shrugged the comment off, cutting in before Ryan could respond, “Tell me again about this case?”

Ryan took a moment to take a slow breath in through his nose, then out through his mouth in an attempt to curb a reflexive response; the sound of his breath audible as he did so. Jeremy could be as stubborn as a mule, and there was no chance fighting that. “The lieutenant said this is the second odd body to drop. The first was in Rosewall, male, late twenties-early thirties met with some sort of blunt weapon. He was found hung up on bathrobe hook. This second guy follows the same M.O.; Blunt weapon, male, thirtyish, but this time he was slung up on a basketball hoop.”

Ryan had developed a reputation for dealing with the strange cases. Jeremy’s presence in his life was invaluable to him in regard to his ‘odd’ jobs. Any and all cons of having a ghost for a mystery sleuthing partner was far outweighed by the pro’s. Jeremy could see the echoes, the memories of objects, sometimes even able to pick up impressions of the crime itself. The ghost was also capable of finding clues that were hidden to the human eye. The dead man was Ryan’s partner, even if all his co-workers ever saw was him. To the world he was alone. The lieutenant had tried to give him a physical partner in the past, but that had impeded his work more than anything. The lieutenant trusted him alone these days, knowing he would reliably and competently work out these strange cases till the end.

“So. What you’re saying is… this is a slam dunk of a case?” Jeremy grinned, bursting into laughter as Ryan groaned heavily. The joke hadn't even been funny. 

“If you weren’t already dead, I’d kill you for how bad that was.” Ryan huffed unamused as they rounded a corner and the scene of the crime, a quaint townhouse, came into view.

Jeremy simply rolled his eyes in response to the overused come back, propping his head up on a palm to smirk at him. “If I wasn’t dead, you’d be my best friend.” He teased, aiming for a laugh. Ryan didn't laugh though, his gaze shifting to look at him sharply as he parked the car. The serious look on his face made Jeremy's chilled body feel a tad colder.

“Jeremy. You  _ are  _ my best friend. The best one I’ve ever had. Dead or not, we are battle buddies.” Ryan intoned quietly, surprising Jeremy as Ryan wasn’t normally one to talk feelings, “So don’t joke about that, because it’s true. Ok?”

Jeremy didn’t know what to say. He could almost feel his heart again as a smile cracked across his face and he nodded, “S-sure Rye. Battle buddies.” he affirmed.

Ryan gave a quick jerk of the head, slapping his thighs with both hands and dispelling the moment to turn their attention to work, “Ok, so, we’ll check out the body first, so that forensics can get it down, then move inside. Sound good?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, getting out with his badge in hand to flash at the crowd that had gathered. He needed to get through the neighbours here for a peep as well as get under that magic yellow tape that kept the scene clear. Jeremy, however, didn’t need anything to get through, effortlessly drifting thoughtfully through the crowd, moving ahead of Ryan as he mulled over the detective’s words.

His mind wasn’t even on the murder when he looked up at the body, instead he was committing Ryan’s little speech to memory. Which is why he startled in surprise when he finally looked to the body.

The body hung. The hoop had been halved, each spike of metal formed into crude hooks, suspending the victim by his broad shoulders. Legs dangled lifeless. His eyes were stuck staring off into the void, dull and glassed over. Blood stained the man’s shirt, soaked up like a sponge where it had run in rivulets from the holes where he had been speared.

As Jeremy looked at the middle of the victims stomach and suddenly he felt himself stiffen in shock.

Ryan came up behind his ghostly partner and whistled low, impressed at the body hung from the garage. He stepped up beside the ghost, taking in the gruesome image. Ryan frowned, walking past Jeremy oblivious, his gaze noting how odd the blood pooling on the victims shirt was. 

“Did you see this?” Ryan asked, pointing as he spoke, “Blood drips from the head; clobbered with a blunt weapon. Then here, the hoop-hook combo with plenty of blood coming from the wound. But here, the blood has blossomed from a central point on the stomach, but .. the shirt has no holes.”

Rubber squeaked and snapped as Ryan pulled on a glove so he could lift the fabric, “Huh, this guys been impaled by something large and long…”  Ryan looked back to Jeremy, normally it was hard to get the energetic ghost to stop moving and shut up while he was trying to think. Ryan’s gaze turned concerned as he observed his friend.

Jeremy was as white as... well, a ghost. His transparent body even more translucent than usual, only an outline of the ghost visible in the morning sun. His eyes were locked on the body, and the rest of him seemed to be drifting in the one spot, independant of his thought.

“J-Jeremy?” Ryan let the shirt fall, turning fully to his friend, worry evident in his tone. Without thought or care for people’s perceptions, Ryan took two swift strides to bring himself in front of Jeremy, only to remember that he couldn’t actually touch the ghost. Instead, he settled for snapping his fingers in front of Jeremy’s face as he sharply called, “Jeremy!”

_ “JEREMY RUN!”  _ _   
_ _ The shriek had echoed in Jeremy's ears, the last thing he heard before the hilt had hit him in the back of the head. Already injured, he had gone down, collapsed. Unnaturally strong arms lifted him back up; up onto a shoulder much higher than his own.  _

_ The hook had loomed in his vision, getting larger with each lumbering footfall of his captor. It’s hands already slick with the blood of others. It’s eyes had gleamed with a sick, cruel delight,  leering at him as it filled his sight. It had winked at him. _

_ The hook slid under his shoulder blade, pain seared and pressure built before it exploded out of his chest. His own scream tore through his throat, blood wetting his mouth as he coughed. His side burned white before falling numb. Useless. He curled his hands around the metal. Sticky, sticky blood,  _ **_his_ ** _ blood, wet his palms. The smell of iron permeated his nose. He tugged. He twisted. No movement yielded results.  He was trapped.  _ _   
_

_ He was hooked. _

Ryan clicked his fingers in front of Jeremy’s eyes, desperately hoping for some kind of response. With a violent jerk Jeremy came back to himself. Subconsciously floating up a little  before moving back down to where he knew he natural stood. He had forgotten how short he had been when he was alive. 

Ryan was looking at him with worry, heedless of the forensics and uniformed officers giving him the side eye. Jeremy swallowed, though of course he didn’t need to, as he tried to gather words. His eyes drifted from Ryan back up to the man on the hook.

“Ryan… I… this is me. I died here.” was all he managed to choke out.

\---

Ryan managed to calm Jeremy down. Of course this wasn’t him, he had been with Ryan for a year and this man had died last night. The body looked nothing like Jeremy, and Ryan found out the name of the victim.

“Guy’s name was Bradley.” Ryan told his friend after making it back to his office, “So it couldn’t be you.” Jeremy was pacing, in his ghostly way, which involved floating back and forth phasing through objects. It gave Ryan a headache to watch Jeremy's body pass through things so he focused on Jeremy's face.

“But that was me, I’m telling you Rye… I-I felt it. I felt it pass through me.” Jeremy rubbed his shoulder where the hook had exited his body, “I dunno what to tell you but that’s how I died.”

“Right… Well this guy didn’t even die via the hooking.” Ryan told him, looking through the report from forensics, “Lab techies say it was the impalement through the stomach that did it. Ruptured organs caused a bleed out in moments.” He shook his head sadly, “Poor Bradley Dooley…”

Jeremy froze again, this time Ryan catching on straight away. He leapt up and stood in front of Jeremy, “Jeremy! What’s happening? Talk me through it.” he had worked with traumatised witnesses before.

“I-I’m hiding. Ryan I’m hiding and I’m so scared,” Jeremy was whispering, his eyes locked on some faraway place, where he hid in some small dark closet, “I feel like I’ll never stop being scared. There’s screams, I can hear them. They are calling for me to help them. “Jeremy! Jeremy dooley!” they shout for me Ryan, but I can’t go to them… I’ll just die too, you understand? Please, I don’t want to die…”

Ryan was horrified to learn that ghosts could cry. He had never wanted to touch Jeremy more, to be able to draw him into a hug, to promise him that he could keep Jeremy safe. But he couldn’t. Because Jeremy was already dead. 

“Jeremy… I’m gonna find this guy for you.” Ryan promised instead, speaking slow and firm, resolution in every syllable, “I’m gonna find him, and I won’t arrest him. I’m going to kill him.” Ryan knew it was too much of a coincidence to be random. This man was Bradley Dooley, the first had been Jeremy Stokes. Both died on a hook of some kind. 

No, this Killer was out for Jeremy. Ryan could feel it in his gut.

\--

They followed the bodies. It seemed as soon as they got to one crime scene, they were getting a call to go to another. The news had picked up the story, calling the Killer, “Dead by Daylight” since every victim killed before daylight had broken. Each one hit by a blunt object, strung up on some kind of makeshift hook and impaled through the stomach without damaging their clothes.

Jeremy continued to flashback, as if his past had always been there, waiting for a chance to break through. Ryan pieced Jeremy’s final days together, coming up with a macabre picture from the puzzle. The more he learnt, the more his fury grew that Jeremy had to live, then die, the way he had. Jeremy was the most kind, fun, intelligent man Ryan had met. 

It just wasn’t fair.

Jeremy had been kidnaped, waking up in a nightmare world where it was never day, and always foggy. Ryan believed that Jeremy's memories were distorted by death, but the facts still shone through. He had been hounded, chased, attacked. Through the haze of fear and death, Jeremy remembered this Killer being larger than a man could be, with a glowing red light that spilled from his eyes.

He remembered a machete, consistent with the blunt force on the victims, a hilt used to stun prey. Jeremy remembered generators he had to fix, other victims he passed in the perpetual night. One in particular stood out, a survivor he bumped into the most often, traded the most words with. 

Geoffery lazer Ramsey, was indeed an open case within the police department. He had been missing just over a year. Just over how long Jeremy had been with Ryan. Ryan hazarded a guess that this friend, Geoff, would be another victim of the killer. A killer that had moved from their personal playground into the streets of the city.

Perhaps in the hopes of recapturing the thrill they felt when they murdered Jeremy as each victim seemed to have something in common to Jeremy himself. Whether it was name, looks or a gymnast; each victim related someway to Jeremy.

It was, in the end, how Ryan found the killer before he could strike again.

“This is it.” Ryan said, looking at the gymnastic floor with Jeremy hovering over his shoulder, “A Jeremy Doolet works here, looks passably like you and fixes cars as a hobby. I got a gut feeling that here is where our Killer will be tonight.”

Jeremy didn’t speak, he couldn’t. Fear held his tongue. Ryan had already canceled Jeremy Doolet’s private mat time tonight, suggesting he stay with friends tonight. It meant that tonight, there would only be the Killer, and one Detective Ryan Haywood.

And one invisible, intangible ghost to watch helplessly from the sidelines.

“Ryan, you should call back up.” Jeremy said suddenly out of the blue after Ryan had settled into the stands to wait with his laptop and some food beside him. Ryan was surprised, Jeremy had never wanted Ryan to have back up around because it meant Ryan couldn’t acknowledge his presence.

“On a hunch? Besides, no one else knows the missing piece of the puzzle is your testimony. They’ll dismiss my hunch out of hand Jeremy. No, you and I got this.” 

“But you’re alone.” Jeremy whined, “Alone, and this guy isn’t a normal guy Detective. He’ll kill you as easy as breathing.”

Ryan shook his head, trying to be sympathetic but logical, “Jeremy, it’s natural that you would view this Killer with supernatural abilities. But it's just not true ok? Maybe he’s tall, maybe he’s fast, but a bullet is going to take him down.” Ryan pet his side arm confidently, “We are going to be ok.”

“I know  _ I  _ will. I’m already dead, so he can’t hurt me anymore.” Jeremy wasn’t going to let this drop, “But as much as I like you Ryan I don’t want you to join-”

There was a soft sound, a tiny click of a door shutting. Ryan held up a hand to silence Jeremy, sliding off the seat and to the ground, kneel walking towards the noise. Jeremy didn’t wait, he rushed past the mortal man, entering the office where the nose had come from. He saw a man, a machete in hand, locking the door behind himself.

“Please don’t be here…” he whispered to himself, unable to see the ghost that was staring at him in shock.

“Geoff?!” Jeremy gasped, beyond rocked to see Geoff Ramsey alive and well, holding the cursed murder weapon that had contributed to his death. The last time he’d seen Geoff was as he had been carried away, seeing the moon of Geoff's face as the man peeked out from a cupboard. 

“Geoff, how are you alive?” Jeremy asked the oblivious man, hovering around him in a circle, “Are you killing these people? WHY?! Why kill like they did?!” He wailed but of course Geoff didn’t hear him. 

Who could hear him was Ryan. Ryan burst through the door, surprising Geoff and pointed his firearm at him, “Put the weapon down, Geoff!” Ryan called in his most authoritarian voice. Geoff yelped and put his hands in the air, one still wrapped around the machete hilt.

“NO! You can’t be here!” Geoff shrieked in despair. Ryan approached slowly, getting a clear line of sight between them. Jeremy watched Ryan inch closer and rage started to bubble. Geoff was killing people. Torturing them as Jeremy had been tortured. Geoff had taken up the mantle of Killer, and had been taunting Jeremy by killing anyone similar to him.

“I can. It’s you who can’t be here anymore. Drop the weapon.” Ryan repeated, his voice full of righteous anger, “I don’t know how you got away, but the fact Jeremy saw you as he was carried away is the only reason I’m not pulling the trigger right now.”

“Jeremy? You’ve spoken to Jeremy?” Geoff asked, starting to lower his hands only to throw them up again as Ryan shouted.

“HAND IN THE FUCKING AIR!” 

Something was happening to Geoff once Ryan's shout faded. He groaned, all the blood draining from his face. Sweat started to pour and he gave a grimace of pain as his hands wavered, the machete shaking, blade catching the little light. Jeremy watched with fear and anger as Geoff's body convulsed once, Geoff bending over to hug himself, barely escaping impaling himself.

“Oh no” he gasped, “You’ve woken him… RUN!”

_ RUN JEREMY! _

Jeremy couldn’t run. Not anymore. He was dead, doomed as a bodiless spirit. He could only watch, intangible and helpless as Ryan took a step back as Geoff looked up. His eyes glowed an eerie red, not of this world. Jeremy was going to have to watch his best friend be slaughtered.

_ RUN JEREMY! RUUUUNNN!!!! _

Not this time.

Jeremy drew himself up, all his fury, his hate, his terror, his frustration; everything he had felt over this past year welled within him. It was enough that even Ryan watching Geoff's body bubble, skin splitting, limbs lengthening, pulled his eyes away to stare in shock at Jeremy. Jeremy had made himself corporal.

He threw himself at the Killer, arms out, diving at him. He connected, feeling running up his arms for the first time in a year, feeling flesh beneath his fingers. The momentum kept him going as he shoved the Killer over… Except he didn’t. Pliant ghost flesh moved but the body remained upright. Jeremy landed on the ground above a ghostly form, Geoff's wide eyes looking up at him in panic.

“What did you do?! I was the only thing holding him back!!” 

Jeremy twisted to look with horror at the body still standing upright. The moment Geoff had been expelled, the body was left to only one inhabitant. The one possessing Geoff's mortal form, using him like a meat suit, sleeping inside until stirred. The TRUE Killer.

No more fighting for control, the body quickly shed its human appearance, extending and morphing into the eight foot terror that had taken Jeremy's life. Ryan looked up at the twisted face, disbelief in what his eyes were telling him written all over his face. Glowing red eyes highlighted the detective and the Killer’s macabre mouth, a slash in a twisted face really, smiled.

“Holy fuck.” Ryan breathed, the Killer taking a step. That woke the detective up, Ryan squeezing the trigger, sinking three bullets in, two in the heart, one in the head. To his horror, the Killer only laughed, deep and unnerving. Ryan did the only sensible thing.

He ran.

Jeremy looked back down to Geoff, able to finally sink his fingers into something, grabbing him by the shoulders to pull higher off the ground to snarl in his face, “The FUCK Geoff?!?!”

He didn’t know how else to phrase the questions crowding his mind in the small amount of time he had. Ryan was in danger, and he couldn’t do anything but shake the ghost under his hands. Geoff knew just what he meant however, shouting his answers.

“The Spider god came for you!” Geoff's words invoked an image, something Jeremy had suppressed, of long spider legs coming down, reaching for a body on a hook as Jeremy watched from his hiding spot, “But before it could take your soul, your spirit slipped free! You got out through a tear in dimensions! We were sent to find you!”

Jeremy let him go, lifting off Geoff as his natural buoyancy took over. He floated up, his mind back in the moment of death. Geoff's words had finally unlocked the repressed memories Jeremy's mind had refused to let surface.

_ The hook burst through his chest in a roar of pain. He struggled, feeling metal scrap against bone, hands around the metal intrusion. He fought it, trying to swing himself off as above him dark clouds gathered. Not clouds, but a rip in dimensions as a creature, too large for this world, reached around him. The clicking of multi pronged legs surrounded him and he screamed for help. _

_ None came. _

_ Jeremy screamed in fear instead when a spider leg lashed down at him, trying to sink into his stomach. He caught it in his hands, roaring in effort and agony, his strength being drained by the gruesome wound that was his impalement. It pushed against his strength, the spider determined to tear into his flesh. _

_ He felt the last of his energy fade, and with his last bit of effort, he shoved the spider leg away and felt himself die, coming free of his body. He fell, watching as the spider finally claimed his stomach, ripping through him to stick out the other side. But it was only the body, the spirit was already rising, watching himself be mutilated as his soul was sucked into the breach of reality and thrown across into the dimension he had been stolen from. _

Jeremy understood at last. He had been a victim of the supernatural long before he’d been a ghost. He had been ejected into this world, his home, and he had protected himself from the truth. Now, that truth was a weapon, one he could use.

He was supernatural, and so was the Killer.

Jeremy could finally fight back.

Ryan could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He didn’t understand what he had seen, couldn’t comprehend it. He had watched an ordinary man morph into a beast of one. One that had cleaved his machete through the office door like butter. Ryan knew he didn’t have to understand for this Killer to murder him.

So he snuck through the gymnasium, keeping low, using the equipment to hide. He could hear the Killer looking for him, the grunt of his deep voice, the thump of his step. The glow of red cast wherever the Killer gazed, Ryan striving to stay out of that hideous light.

Two heart shots, along with the headshot should have killed him. Ryan had seen them connect, seen the blood spurt from the holes, drip down the Killers face. They had landed, that was for certain and yet this creature was still moving. He had severely underestimated this Killer.

He had no idea where Jeremy was, what happened with the second ghost, Geoff. He didn’t know how Geoff got here, only that Jeremy had identified him as such. No clue to how the Killer had sprung up so large and tall with Geoff's body. Ryan only knew to hide, and pray he wouldn't be found.

“OI!” Jeremy's shout echoed in the gymnasm, Ryan’s heart dropping with fear, though he knew the Killer wouldn’t hear him, “Asshole! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?!”

Ryan was so used to no-one seeing or hearing Jeremy but himself, he didn’t consider this being that hunted him was also supernatural. 

“ **Dooolleeeyyyy** ” A long drawl came from the Killer, more of a groan than a word. The Killer turned towards the ghost who was floating in the open mat area, trying not to flee as his Murderer focused on him. Ryan crouched behind a vault and looked around the springs to watch with fear.

“Y-you messed with the wrong casper, pal!” Jeremy told those horrid red eyes as they settled on him. He reminded himself he was a ghost and couldn’t be killed. Yet when the red glow lit him up, Jeremy could feel his heart once more, beating wildly in his chest, in his ears. The machete hung by the Killers side, but its edge glinted without any light touching it.

“ **Dooollleeeyyy** ” The Killer rumbled again as he took a step closer. Jeremy balled up his fists, drawing himself up. He wasn’t going to be hurt this time, he wasn’t going to be ki- 

The Killer swung his machete like lightning, faster than any moment he had made so far. Its edge cut through ghost flesh, cold sharp pains coming from the contact, making Jeremy recoil with a shout of agony. He pressed his hands to the slice, seeing no blood but witnessing something awful. Bits of him, his ghostly body, flicker off and float into a void of nothing.

Jeremy’s courage fled, and so did he. He took off as fast as he could fly, diving through walls until he was outside and could see the sky He looked up at the stars, tears wetting his face, aware now he could cry in this form. He felt more of him slip away, pulling towards the void that would take him back. Slice by slice, the Killer would return him to the cold, foggy endless night.

He was wrong to think he could be brave. It's so easy to be brave when nothing can see you, touch you,  _ hurt  _ you. Jeremy was a coward, he knew that. He couldn’t go back in there, couldn’t face those eyes again. He couldn’t be sent back. He just couldn’t.

Ryan’s scream cut through the night. Jeremy rounded around, looking at the gymnasium as he listened. Ryan roared in pain again, screaming, “FUCK! YOU BASTARD! I’LL KILL YOU!” Ryan was in terrible danger and he couldn’t fly through walls like Jeremy could. Jeremy wanted to help him but… He couldn’t. He prayed Ryan would be alright as he started to float down the street.

Ryan struggled, kicking his legs, beating with his uninjured arm. The other hung useless, the machete having cleaved him from shoulder to back. He was in agony but he didn’t stop fighting, didn’t stop struggling as the Killer ripped a lighting from the wall and twisted the joint into a hook with one huge hand. Hate boiled through the detective, but underneath that was cold pure fear.

He was about to die.

Ryan could see a ghost, but not the one he longed for. Geoff watched, wringing hands together but making no move to help, and Jeremy was nowhere to be seen. Ryan wished Jeremy was here, not because he could help, but because if Ryan was about to join him in death, he wanted Jeremy close to guide him through it.

The hook tore through him, not quite making it through the other side, but lodging deep in his chest. The jagged bits tore and blood poured. Ryan gasped and coughed, tears spilling from the pain of it, weakly pawing over where it was stuck under his skin. The agony was so different from being shot, it just kept going, each tiny movement bringing new intense pain.

“I’m gonna get off this.” Ryan spat through clenched teeth, tasting blood, “And I’m going to run you through with your own fucking machete.”

He didn’t think he would, but threatening it made Ryan feel a tiny bit better. He felt guilty he had promised Jeremy he would kill the Killer and now was going to die by their hand. He hoped Jeremy got away, that he escaped-

“HIYA!” Jeremy dove down from the ceiling, colliding with the Killer around their neck and shoulders making them stumble back. Jeremy swirled around them, punching and pushing, staying out of reach of the Killer’s swings. The Killer swiped at him, but Jeremy was like a wasp, darting around and stinging with jabs.

Ryan didn’t get to watch the fight for long however as he felt a chill crawl up his spine. At first he thought it was death coming for him, but then he realised he could see the outline of long spider legs wrapping around his form. He looked up in time to see a larger one swing down at him, catching it between his hands with a roar of effort, trying to keep it from his belly.

This then, was the mysterious instrument that had impaled the victims, only damaging flesh and not clothes. This thing wanted Ryan's soul, and it fought his hands to do so. Jeremy was busy fighting the Killer so Ryan shouted out to the only other one there, “Geoff! Help!”

Geoff looked at him, tearing his eyes away from Jeremy's fight, “I-I can’t. I agreed to help. If-if they get Jeremy's soul, then I get my body back and go free. I’m sorry.”

“You-You son of a bitch!” Ryan yelled at him, Jeremy's yelps of pain when the machete connected ripping away at Ryan's heart more than the hook in his body, “And when Jeremy needed you?! Did you just standby then?”

“I’m sorry.” Geoff said again, edging back. Ryan had no time for him as the spider leg redoubled its efforts pressing against his strength. 

Jeremy felt each little piece of him that was sliced away, felt it be pulled back into the cold. He was slowing down, getting hit more often and doing minimal damage to the Killer. He could see Ryan struggling with the spider creature, and Geoff standing there doing nothing. Despair threatened to rob him of will when he remembered.

The spiders leg could penetrate anything, and lift it into its own dimension.

“Sorry asshole but you’re going home!” Jeremy shouted and threw himself at the Killer head on surprising them. He collided with chest and with a grunt of effort, the Killer lost their footing, their huge weight sending them backwards and slamming into Ryan.

Ryan screamed, the hook pushed through with the impact, spurting blood over them both. More importantly his grip loosened on the spider and the leg sunk deep into stomach.

The Killer’s stomach.

Geoff shouted in surprise as his soul sucked towards his body, becoming one once more. The mandible retracted, and the Killer went with it even as his form bubbled back down into Geoff’s more familiar features, “No! No I don’t want to go back! NO! We had a deaaalll!!!”

Then they were gone. 

\---

Ryan awoke in a hospital, no memory after watching the Killer be sucked back to its own world. His body felt pleasantly numb and he was laying back in an upright position. He blinked and groaned as the numbness edged back from his mind, letting him think once more. 

His arm was strapped to his chest, resting his shoulder, and his back was also bound, he could feel the bandaging. His head throbbed, and an iv drip run into the crook of his good arm. That wasn’t what he looked at however, it was the insubstantial outline of Jeremy’s sleeping face.

The ghost was half the size he normally was, still proportional but small, curled on the end of Ryan's bed. His eyes were closed and he was barely noticable, too tired to manifest. Ryan smiled softly, beyond relieved to see him still around and getting foggy memories come to mind.

Jeremy had fought the Killer, had been hurt in return and ultimately had saved Ryan. He had used all his energy to manifest a physical effect, for the first time actually touching Ryan. He lifted Ryan from his hook, then called the ambulance. By then his energy had been used up and he faded, but the operator tracked Ryan's phone and he had been found.

As Jeremy rested, Ryan leant forward and hovered a hand over Jeremy's cheek. He could feel nothing, but he imagined warm skin under his palm. He knew they would talk about this later, but for now, he was just happy they were both safe, and still together.

And perhaps, one day soon. They could touch properly.

Ryan feel back asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
